


(i need somebody to) love me blue

by spacemanlouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, and he doesn't really understand why, and that's all that matters, and they have a cat named eloise, but harry's okay with it, harry likes using french petnames for louis, lots of poetry, louis finds himself infatuated with makeup, they are the most sickening couple ever, they work together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemanlouis/pseuds/spacemanlouis
Summary: polonius, act I, scene III, line 84: this above all; to thine own self be true.





	(i need somebody to) love me blue

**Author's Note:**

> i wouldn't file this fic under graphic or depressing, but in case you are easily triggered by coming out, social drinking, mild signs of anxiety, or anything of that magnitude, please don't read this. there are footnotes at the bottom of each chapter, and even though you can't format footnotes on ao3, i tried my best.
> 
> \-----
> 
> i wrote this sometime last year and just got around to posting it; i might post the other chapters, might not. i personally think that it's fine how it is, but i don't know. we'll see.
> 
> also the title is from 'blue' by zayn

louis pushed himself off of the sofa, and he glanced out of the picture window that looked out over the street. he knew harry’s car wasn’t going to be in his parking spot; he’d left over an hour ago to go pick up a prescription or some groceries or something trivial like that.

 

he turned his head and looked at the clock on the wall, breaking the thick silence that surrounded him with a deep sigh. harry would probably be back any minute, he thought. he never really liked to be out of the house for more than a few hours at a time; it just wasn’t like him. he was  _ such _ a homebody that it was almost sickening.

 

he eventually made his way to his and harry’s bedroom, his eyes immediately shifting to their reasonably fat cat named eloise, who was stretched out, sleeping across his side of the bed. she was a brown tabby, and she was a holy terror to louis. and harry, being the idiotic child he was, originally wanted her to be named ‘ribena ’(1). louis had shot that one down pretty quickly.

 

he never really liked to say he hated the cat, only because harry absolutely adored her, but she did, after all, despise him, giving him reason enough to be able to say that she wasn’t his favorite.

 

but honestly, who was he kidding, she was the sole reason why he was undoubtedly a dog person.

 

louis pushed eloise to harry’s side of the bed, waking her up. she hissed at him, finding another spot on the duvet, and lying back down.

 

“hey, watch it. i think you’re forgetting that i feed you every day.” he said authoritatively, sitting up against the headboard. “you’re lucky harry loves you.” she hissed again.

 

he ignored her, reaching for the middle drawer of his bedside table. unlike the other two drawers, the middle one was his, meaning it was kind of like a ‘secret drawer’. harry wasn’t allowed to open it, ask about it, or even look at it.

 

harry understood, though. he understood that louis needed his privacy, he knew he needed something that was solely  _ his _ , not  _ theirs _ . he respected it.

 

the only other boundary in their relationship was calling each other ‘daddy’. they both agreed that  _ that _ was too far.

 

he grasped the small, white knob, and pulled the drawer out several inches, revealing a few rectangular, matte-black cases. he grazed his fingers along the tops of each one, picking the third one out, and looking at it. he opened the case, looking at himself in the mirror on the top. on the bottom, twelve different colours of pure pigment eyeshadows, all packed almost neatly into their pans (almost, meaning louis had made an absolute mess of them over the past few months).

 

he noticed that he had used three of the eight colors so much, that they were already showing to the bottom of the pan. those three were his favorites.

 

the first one was a peachy champagne color, he liked that one as a highlighter. the second one was a dark, matte taupe, for his crease. the third was a beautiful dark shimmery rose-gold, with little specks of gold shimmer. this one was his absolute favourite; it was the one that was missing the most product, because he used it so often.

 

once he heard the front door open, he cursed to himself as he fumbled with the case, shutting it and dropping it back in the drawer. he loved his collection, and he loved doing his own makeup. he obviously hated keeping it from harry, but he didn’t feel like he could tell him just yet. he didn’t feel like he could tell  _ anybody _ just yet.

 

whenever he was caught buying it, he would always say it was a gift for one of his sisters. their birthdays were all scattered across the calendar, so he always had an excuse, no matter the season.

 

harry’s head peeked out over the door frame, making louis snap his head to the side. he noticed that harry’s hair was quite messy, as it usually was, but it was a nice sort of messy. like, a kind of messy where you knew he didn’t put any effort into fixing it but it still looked good anyway, so there was really no reason to fix it in the first place.

 

“guess who’s back?” harry asked, bending down to pet eloise’s back, who was now circling his ankles.

 

“slim shady?” louis replied smartly.

 

harry shook his head and smiled. “funny.” he walked to the side of the bed, kissing louis lightly. “do you want to help me put away the groceries, pumpkin?” harry asked quietly, using the term ‘help’ very, very loosely. “why don’t you go and let some light in here?” harry continued around the bed, to the window, opening the curtains, even though it was dark and stormy outside.

 

louis had just recently bought some grey coloured blackout curtains that he never liked to open, making it dark in the room all day, which harry hated because of all the articles he’s read about how ‘natural light is one of many ways to heighten your natural dopamine’ or something.

 

louis just rolled his eyes at him, and stood up from their bed. “yeah, i’ll help you.” he answered, discreetly closing the middle drawer with his knee. he started walking towards harry, holding his arms out in front of him. “how was your shopping trip today, love?”

 

“c'était formidable.(2)"  harry replied cheerfully, adding a light kiss on louis’ forehead. “c’mon.”

 

“no, harryy.” louis whined, refusing to let go of him. “please come and lay down with me.”

 

“clingy today?” harry tried separating himself from louis, not succeeding. “you know i’d love to, but we have to-”

 

louis stared up at harry, “kiss me. kiss me as if it were the last time .(3)”

 

“cute.” harry remarked, quickly leaning to peck louis on the lips before subtly trying to pry him away from himself. “hey, c’mon, i have cold stuff to put away.”

 

“you’re no fun.” louis muttered, letting go of harry to pick eloise up off of the ground, and over his shoulder. “c’mon, fatty, let’s go put away some groceries for the boss.” he ignored her freakishly long claws that were digging into his shoulder; he couldn’t risk ruining his sassy façade.

 

harry smiled and shook his head at louis as he walked away, swaying his hips from side to side as he walked.

 

louis, almost slipping on the tiled floor, jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter, forcing the cat to stay in his arms. “why does your cat hate me?”

 

“well,  _ our _ cat probably doesn’t like you that much because you don’t like her either.” harry started pulling different grocery items from their bags, placing them in their unofficial designated spots in the refrigerator.

 

he started with the lettuce, then the avocados, then- fuck, louis despised harry’s love for vegetables.

 

and of course, not to contradict himself, he loved the occasional carrot stick or green bean, but the constant greens really fucked with his head. he needed his rubbish food every once and awhile, i mean, he was only human, after all.

 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, i mean, i feed her every day… sometimes…” louis let her down, lifting her paws from the counter.

 

“lou, what the hell are you doing?” harry looked up at him, making eloise dance on the countertop.

 

“c’mon, sweetheart, el has dreams too, you know.” louis looked disappointingly at harry. “don’t suppress her inspirations.”

 

harry laughed at louis, in an endearing, ‘wow, he’s a huge idiot. i love him,’ type of way. “i think you mean ‘aspirations’, love. not ‘inspirations’.” harry corrected him, making louis turn his head and give him a dirty look.

 

“whatever.” he let go of eloise, allowing her to run off of the counter and hide as far away as possible from him. he hopped off of the countertop, and filled a patterned glass cup to the brim with ice, then pouring water over the cubes. sitting back on the counter, he stared into the glass for a while, slowly watching the ice melt, assimilating into the water.

 

“you’re a bloody english teacher, for christ’s sake.” harry shook his head, watching louis swing his dangling feet back and forth as he watched harry do the hard,  _ grueling _ physical labor. “so, are you going to help me? you at least tell me how good i look while i’m doing this?”

 

“harry,” louis started. “you are  _ the _ sexiest grocery boy i’ve ever seen in my life.” he said sensually. “and your ass looks fantastic in those jeans.”

 

“ha-ha.” harry deadpanned, fitting his hips between louis’ knees, pulling his hips closer to louis’. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

 

louis hooked his arms around harry’s neck and pushed their foreheads together. “ta.” harry pushed his chin forward to kiss louis. he kissed him until louis pulled his head back and smiled at him.

 

“i love you.” louis said simply. harry responded by kissing him again, hovering his hands over louis’ waist. “can you carry me to bed?”

 

“louis, i swear to god…” he obliged, grabbed louis’ bum, hauling him over his hips. “you’re going to kill me someday.” he continued to slip one hand into louis’ t-shirt and run his cold, clammy hand up louis’ back.

 

“you’re an asshole.” louis gritted his teeth from the change in temperature. his head was tucked between his own arm and the crook of harry’s neck, and as creepy as it sounds, harry loved the way louis’ breath scattered, warm and humid down the back of his neck.

 

“but i’m  _ your _ asshole.” harry leaned and kissed louis’ ear repeatedly.

 

“ew, harry,” louis said, being tipped horizontally as harry carefully set himself down on his side of the bed, still tightly holding onto louis. harry rolled on his side so that louis could catch a break, then rolled onto his back again, hearing a painful ‘pop’ from his spine. “do  _ not _ compare yourself to my asshole,  _ ever _ .”

 

harry kept his arm in the curve of louis’ neck, pulling him gingerly into his side. louis slid his hand into harry’s t-shirt and lightly rested it around his waist, looking for the curve that fit his hand so perfectly. harry looked down at louis, though he could only see the tip of his nose and his eyelashes, casting long, thick shadows under his eyes.

 

in harry’s opinion, louis was the single most ethereally beautiful human being on the planet. everything about him was perfect, and harry was surprised that the entire world hadn’t melted at louis’ feet already.

 

if it wasn’t already obvious, harry was à-corps-perdu (4),  head-over-heels in love with louis.

 

"hey, can i tell you something?” harry asked, lightly grazing his fingertips over louis’ arm. he continued when he felt louis nod against his shoulder. “i love you. i hope you know, you’re it. this is it for me. i wanna be with you for the rest of my life. i’ll never not feel this way, okay? is that okay with you?"

 

louis hesitantly tilted his head up and kissed the underside of harry’s chin. harry responded by moving his fingers lightly along louis’ hair, twirling it between his fingers.

 

louis melted into harry’s touch when he heard the light patter of the rain that dribbled onto their roof. rain was louis’ favourite, even beating out the sun in the middle of a scorching summer. as loud and sometimes obnoxious as louis was, he loved melancholy, gloomy, quiet days indoors with harry, listening to their oddly specific ‘rainy day’ playlist, which heavily relied on the works of maroon 5 and michael bublé.

 

“i wish we could stay like this forever. like, just laying, like this. i like it. i love it, a lot. i don’t think i want to get up, ever. i-”

 

“you’re rambling again.” louis interrupted him, putting the hand that was previously around harry’s waist over his mouth. “anyway, i’ve been meaning to tell you something for a little bit too.”

 

harry lifted louis’ hand from over his mouth, and placed it back down by his side. “oh, yeah? what’s up, kit?”

 

louis froze, mostly because of the nickname harry had used that he loved (that he may or may not have been a little too drunk to remember the meaning behind it), and because he never thought he’d actually muster up the courage to ever say it. i like makeup. i like the way it looks on me. “i…” i don’t feel like myself anymore, it’s scary. “i, uh….” i’m not a boy, i don’t feel like a boy anymore, it’s new, and it’s different, and i’m so scared. “i love you.” i’m so fucking scared.

 

harry smiled, and laughed a little bit. “that’s what you’ve been waiting so long to tell me? you just told me that in the kitchen when i got home.”

 

“well, i-” he panicked.

 

“it’s okay,” harry reassured. he was always so god damned supportive like that, and louis hated it, mostly because louis would then feel obligated to tell harry what was bothering him, which louis also hated. “take as much time as you need, mon chéri .(5)”

 

and that was the worst part about all of this; louis knew that harry would be okay with it. fuck, it would probably make harry love him even more, with harry being one of those ‘differences make you beautiful’ people or whatever.

  
louis expelled a copious amount of air from his lungs, trying to find it in himself to say it out loud. he couldn’t.

 

“just... uh, nevermind. s’not that important.” louis murmured sotto voce (6) . ‘you fucking idiot,’ he thought, ‘i can’t believe you fucked this up again’.

 

harry scrunched his nose at him, kissing the top of his head. “that’s okay. you don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to.”

 

“thanks.” louis said dryly with an agonizing sting in the back of his chest. his throat felt as if he had just downed a few shots of everclear, the empty burn on the back of his throat being all he could think about. “no, no…” louis started again, swinging his legs around the side of the bed. “i need to do this now.”

 

harry’s face blanched. “louis, what’s going on?”

 

without a word, louis stood up and kneeled towards his bedside table. he pulled out the middle drawer too quickly, making the palettes and lipstick tubes rattle against each other.

 

“lou, you don’t have to-”

 

“can you please just shut up for like, five minutes?” louis looked at harry like he was about to throw a knife at him. harry just pursed his lips to show louis that he was going to stay quiet. “yes, i do have to do this. and if i’m going to do it, i need you, with all due respect, to shut the fuck up.”

 

harry sat intently as louis took out two of the many black cases, and a few cylindrical tubes that contained lipstick. he placed them on the bed and sat back up on the side of it, gesturing for harry to pick them up and look at them.

 

harry looked back up at louis, confused. he had already attempted to open the cases, and the tubes, and he was still confused. “why do you have these? they for your sisters?’’

 

louis balled his hands into fists, and kneaded the top of his thighs over and over again. “no. they’re uh, they’re mine. i use them.” louis said, so quietly that harry could have pretended to not hear him if he wanted to.

 

“oh.” harry froze, looking down at them. he didn’t know whether or not louis wanted him to say anything or not. he didn’t even know if louis wanted him to  _ move _ .

 

‘oh god, this is it. he’s not reacting, i should have known better. i shouldn’t have told him,’ louis thought, trying not to hide his face into his shoulder.

 

harry picked up one of the lipstick tubes and twisted it so he could see the actual bullet. it was the colour of a bottle of château cheval blanc de bordeaux (7) , a rich, beautiful red wine colour; a colour which harry wanted to see on louis’ lips so badly.

 

“okay.” harry shrugged. “why are you showing me this now? why’d you wait so long to tell me?” harry started shuffling the cases around, pushing them back towards louis. louis started putting them back in the drawer.

 

louis exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in. “oh, i um… i don’t… i don’t know. i just… i wasn’t ready, i guess. and this doesn’t change anything, i just… i felt like you should know.”

 

“i know. i know it doesn’t change anything… don’t be crass, louis, of course it’s not going to change anything.” harry grabbed louis’ arm, trying to tell him to lay back down. louis squeezed harry’s shirt in his fist as he rested his head over harry’s collarbone. harry kissed the top of louis’ head, and squeezed him tighter. “thank you for telling me.”

 

louis’ heart was about to beat out of his chest. he knew it was going to happen like this. he knew harry wouldn’t give him any trouble. it was just the feeling of finally admitting it, the adrenaline rush of finally relieving himself of the secret.

 

but he also knew that harry was absolutely wrong; nothing was ever going to be the same between them after that.

 

a rush of catharsis suddenly washed over louis, starting as a shaky sigh, but in due course, he started to sob into harry’s neck. as he completely expected it, harry tried subtle touches and kisses to calm him down, mumbling “i’ve got you,” “you’re okay,” and “it’s going to be alright,” every once and awhile. none of it helped, it never helped. louis just kept crying, and crying, almost soaking the neck of harry’s t-shirt.

 

“it’s okay, i know, i know you’re scared. it’s okay to be scared. i love you, okay? everything’s okay… i’ve got you, everything’s okay, louis.”

 

“i can’t,” louis gasped, trying to stop himself from crying any more than he already had, because fuck, he hated crying. “i’m so scared, harry. i’m sorry. i… i hate this… i hate that I’m crying about this.”

 

harry sat still for a second, surprised that louis actually admitted that he was afraid for once in his grown, adult life. “no… louis, please don’t be sorry.” his heart shattered. “don’t ever be sorry.”

 

but, as expected, louis didn’t listen to harry, he never did, and he kept asking for pardon, for what exactly he didn’t quite know.

 

“hey, love, shhh, listen to me, okay? just listen,” harry bethought one of louis’ favorite poems. why this was his favorite, harry couldn’t quite fathom. but, he continued to recite it, word for word,

 

“let us go then, you and i, 

when the evening is spread out against the sky, 

like a patient etherized upon a table; 

let us go through certain half-deserted streets, 

the muttering retreats 

of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels 

and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: 

streets that follow like a tedious argument 

of insidious intent 

to lead you to an overwhelming question… 

oh, do not ask, ‘what is it?’ 

let us go and make our visit.” harry spoke evenly, running his slender fingertips along louis’ scalp.

 

“in the room the women come and go 

talking of michelangelo .(8)” louis finished with a few hiccups between words.

 

“see, chouchou(9) ? you’re okay. just calm down, listen to the rain.” harry finally alleviated, inconspicuously trying to get louis to fall asleep. louis just nodded, closing his eyes and loosening his grip on harry’s comforting t-shirt.

 

in a matter of minutes, harry craned his neck to check on him, louis was fast asleep, with his eyes lightly shut, and his mouth still in a slight pout. he pulled the thin sheet of their bed up and over louis’ shoulders, barely kissing the tip of his nose, then resting his head against the side of louis’ face. “je t’aime beaucoup, mon beau étoile .(10)”

 

  
  
: :  
  
  
  


it was okay. everything between them was okay. okay, because harry hovered. he went out of his way to make sure louis was okay; to make sure he was put together, even though he  _ totally _ was already ‘put together’.

 

and it’s not like louis was stupid, either. he noticed. he noticed that harry was always watching him, he noticed that harry didn’t like it when louis wanted to be left alone, and he noticed that harry  _ really _ didn’t like it when louis woke up in the middle of the day.

 

“bonne apr è s-midi, mon cher (11).  are you going to get up sometime today?” harry opened the curtains, letting in ample amounts of sunlight into the bedroom. louis hid his face in the duvet, groaning at the influx of light.

 

“harryy…” he whined as harry hopped onto the bed, coddling louis in the duvet.

 

harry lied on his side, rubbing his hand up and down louis’ torso through the duvet. “go out somewhere with me tonight.” harry insisted, exposing louis’ forehead and eyes. “get showered, get dressed, and go somewhere with me.”

 

“do i have to? can’t i just stay in bed with you tonight?” louis complained lightly, tucking his nose into harry’s cheek, and kissing his jaw.

 

“come on, lou, don’t you want to go outside, get out of the house?”

 

“i’ll go outside and get out of the house when we go to work tomorrow. and i’m not depressed, harry. i told you something, i cried for a second, and now i’m fine.” louis said flatly. “i’m  _ fine _ . you can stop hovering over me now.” harry stared blankly at him. “yes, i’ve noticed.”

 

“i… i just, i’m sorry, i’m just worried, s’all. i love you…”

 

“stop worrying, harry. just let it go… i’m fine, m’just tired today. i’m not your charity case.” louis sat up on the edge of the bed. “we can go out tonight, if you want to.” he acquiesced, sighing down at his feet.

 

harry pulled louis back down on the bed with him, kissing him all over his face. “okay. thank you.” louis hated that; harry praising him like he was a stubborn toddler who just ate his greens. it bothered him, being extolled for agreeing to do everyday tasks. god, he hated that more than anything. “where d’you want to go?” harry continued to pester louis, repeatedly brushing the hair off of his forehead with his thumb.

 

louis pushed his face under the duvet to escape harry’s touch. “doesn’t matter to me.”

 

harry frowned, knowing that louis was usually the most authoritative, garrulous, opinionated person he’s ever met. and not to be contradictory, of course, he  _ loved _ that about louis, but he knew that flowy, laid-back louis was  _ not _ normal. “c’mon… where do you want to go? it’s up to you, really.”

 

louis exposed his face, giving harry a tired expression. “i don’t know, h. it really doesn’t matter to me. you just pick somewhere while i go get ready.” he sat up and kissed harry before disappearing into the washroom across the hall.

 

louis finally sighed, pressing his back against the door and staring at the unlit sweet cinnamon pumpkin candle that sat on the pristine sink countertop. sweet cinnamon pumpkin was harry’s third favourite scent, coming behind french lavender and clean linen . (12)

 

he eventually stood up straight, and looked at himself in the mirror, shifting his mouth to the left side of his face in confusion. he started to take off his t-shirt, but that didn’t help him any. he  _ definitely  _ didn’t want to ask harry about it,  _ that’s _ for sure.

 

he sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat, holding his face in his hands. he never would have thought of doing this in a million years, and yet, here he was, about to rip his own hair out because of the internal argument he had over whether or not he wanted to wear makeup in public.  _ never _ , in a  _ million _ years.

 

louis argued with himself about it in his head for at least five minutes, only being interrupted by harry lightly knocking on the door.

 

“ça va (13),  lou?”

 

“i, uh… yeah. s’just wondering… um… what shirt should i wear? could you pick one out for me, me ‘ansum?”

 

“of course, love. how would you feel about the blue button up that i like on you?” harry asked, his voice becoming more distant, assuming he had gone to grab the shirt from their closet anyway.

 

“sounds fine, dear.” louis piped, standing up and opening the door, so that harry could hand him his shirt. “merci (14). ”

 

“de rien (15) , darling.” louis couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. small, yes, but all the same, entirely endearing. 

 

he swung the door shut again, taking the shirt off of its hanger, placing it on the doorknob, and slipping his arms through the sleeves, throwing any ideas of taking a shower out the window. he left the buttons undone, and lied himself on the bathroom floor, with his arms heavy over his eyes. he didn’t mean for harry to walk in on him like that, either. he just needed a minute to himself.

 

“mon amour (16) , what are you doing?” harry just stood in the doorway, looking down at louis. this is exactly the kind of thing harry had been trying to avoid.

 

louis didn’t move for a second, silently mourning the five seconds of peace and quiet he had just previously had. “i don’t know.”

 

“how, uh… how long have you been down there?”

 

“i don’t know.”

 

harry just continued to look down at him, his face distorted in absolute confusion, and a half-assed worry. “d’you fancy getting up anytime soon? you want me to join you down there?”

 

“no, please don’t.” louis shot out, short and succinct. “just, give me a goddamn minute, alright?”

  
harry drew back sarcastically, putting his hand over his chest. “snippy today, are we?”

 

louis hated that he just snapped at harry like that. he hated it a  _ lot _ . “i’m so sorry, love. i just-”

 

“c’mere, baby.” harry sat against the bathtub and encouraging Louis to sit between his thighs. “tell me what’s the matter.” louis accepted, setting his back against harry’s stomach.

 

harry started to brush louis’ hair back towards him. “i have a question.”

 

“yeah? what is it?”

 

louis paused, not knowing if he should give harry a disclaimer before asking. “okay, i… so, if you say no, i’ll completely understand, and i’m not going to be mad or anything, and-”

 

“lou, just spit it out, okay? it’s me.” harry said, somehow soothingly. “it’s just me.”

 

louis sighed. “i know, i, i know it’s just you, it’s just that… i don’t know… nevermind, it’s nothing, it’s… dumb.”

 

harry furrowed his eyebrows, because louis knew that harry hated it when he did that. “it’s not nothing, and it’s not dumb. just tell me, okay? what’s the worst thing i could say? it’s me you’re talking about, here.”

 

louis’ mind went to awful places as that question was asked. “well, if you want to get into that, you could-”

 

“don’t take that literally, louis. you know what i meant.” harry said, minimally annoyed. he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of louis’ head, waiting for louis to sigh again.

 

“okay… i was, um… only going to ask if it was okay if i… if i wore makeup tonight, to go out, but i really don’t want to anymore, so don’t worry-”

  
“lou, d’you really think i’d tell you no?” harry asked genuinely, almost laughing. “you must not know me very well at all. je suis toujours ici pour toi, mon cher (17) .”

 

louis slowly raised his head back up, and tilted it back to look at harry’s face. “no, i know, i just didn’t know if you-”

 

“i’m not going to stop you from doing anything, louis. if you want to wear makeup tonight, go ahead. if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. just do whatever you want to do, love .”

 

“i know, i… i know. i just don’t want to anymore; not right now.” louis explained frantically, picturing every single worst-case scenario he could have possibly think of. “if we see one of the kids, or if someone-”

 

“that’s okay, lou. go at your own pace, do your own thing.” harry watched louis stand up, starting to nervously fumble with the tiny buttons on his shirt. harry followed him, reaching his arms out. “c’mere.”

 

louis gladly accepted, slowly and tightly wrapping his arms all the way around harry’s torso while harry played with his hair. harry was warm, and his shirt was soft, making louis smile. “you’re too good to me.”

 

harry hummed, guiding louis’ head to his own shoulder, as if he were about to smother him. “i love you.”

 

louis, being the unbelievably self-righteous prick that he was, responded with a long, drawn out, “you interrupted me every time I tried to speak.”

 

harry closed his eyes, and breathed out heavily. “i know. i’m sorry.” 

 

“it’s okay,” louis said, parting from harry, while still looking into his eyes. “i still love you.”

 

“oh, thank  _ god _ .” harry announced sarcastically, reaching for the buttons of louis’ shirt. “here, let me.”

 

louis accepted, fondly watching harry as he struggled to grasp his admittedly large fingers around the small, clear buttons. “you need a bit of help there, love?”

 

“no, i… got it.” he reached the last one, smiling in triumph. “see, big hands and all.”

 

louis smiled back at him, admiring the reciprocated fond smile on his face. “yeah, and all.”

 

“hey, come on. let’s go have fun or something.”

 

“ _ or something _ .” louis repeated him for emphasis. “sounds promising.”

 

harry’s smile grew as he watched louis try to tuck the shirt into his jeans as he walked back into the bedroom. “no, that doesn’t look right.” harry reached to untuck the shirt. “leave it out like this.” 

 

“whatever you say, my dear.” louis flattened the shirt against his faded black jeans, then reaching for a worn pair of vans.

 

harry reached for louis’ waist, immediately connecting to his side. “c’mon, let’s go down to the pub. get drinks or something.” he only half meant it.

 

louis gave him a painfully straightforward ‘are you serious?’ look. “drinks? seriously?”

 

“yeah, why not? do you want to do something else?”

 

“no, i don’t care, i… we’re not really a ‘casually get drinks’ kind of people, h.”

 

“come on, who says we can’t be?”

 

louis raised his eyebrows. “your incredibly pathetic intolerance for alcohol, that’s who says.”

 

harry threw his head back in annoyance, swiping his keys from the counter by the door. “that was  _ one _ time, lou.  _ one  _ time, like, four years ago (18) .” 

 

“mhm.” louis hummed, making sure the front door was locked before walking away from it. “right.”

 

harry walked “it  _ was _ .” he insisted, ghosting his hand over the car door handle.

 

“okay, fine.” louis raised his hands, skipping down the front steps. “it was  _ one _ time.”

 

“are you only agreeing with me because you love me?” harry asked, watching louis sit into the passenger’s side. 

 

“mmm.” he settled, buckling his seatbelt in sync with harry.

 

“i thought so,” harry reached his arm around the back of the passenger's seat as he carefully backed out of his spot. “by the way, i didn’t want to go get drinks.”

 

louis looked at him quizzically. “what did you have in mind then?”

 

harry let louis sit quietly for a minute smiled as he stopped at the end of their street. “just wanted to go out for a drive with you.”

 

“you could have just said that, h. you don’t have to trick me into going for drives.”

 

“louis,” harry conveyed. “you are the most fidgety, high-strung, impatient person i have ever met in my entire life.  _ yes,  _ i did have to trick you into going for a drive.”

 

“okay, maybe i do get a bit bored a little easily, but i’d still-”

 

“no, you wouldn’t, and you know it.”

 

“anyway,” louis abruptly changed the subject, knowing that harry was right, and not wanting to admit it. “what are you having the kids do now? second quarter and all.” louis asked, even though he already knew, since harry had made him read over his syllabus about nine times before printing it.

 

“the renaissance and the enlightenment. macbeth and hamlet.” he answered quietly. “all the interesting stuff, naturally.”

 

“hey, watch it, styles. hamlet was one of my favourite pieces when i was in school.” louis stated matter-of-factly.

 

harry smiled, knowing that louis had absolutely no idea what the hell he was talking about. “right, and i fell over forwards for editorials and persuasive writing.”

 

“no, i’m serious. i was a sitting duck for that ‘to be or not to be’ crap.” louis said, holding harry’s empty hand that was resting on the centre console.

 

“i forgot to ask,” harry mentioned. “what was the whole situation with that kid… carver?”

 

“carter.” louis corrected him, knowing exactly what harry was referencing. “s’nothing. he’s just an egomaniacal, narcissistic, chronic pain in my ass.” he said, emphasising every word.

 

“he sounds fun.” harry noted, taking a left down one of the most densely populated streets in the city. it wasn’t completely empty, but the time of night did make it a little less busy than it normally was. “so i’m guessing i shouldn’t worry too much about it?” 

 

“no, it should just resolve itself.” louis sunk back into the seat.

 

harry and louis were both teachers at a sixth form college in london, louis teaching english composition, and harry teaching classic british literature. they had some common students, albeit not many. naturally, louis was closer and more in-touch to his students than harry was, and louis loved watching the crowd of teenagers grow irritated whenever they were trying to guess who louis’ significant other was, whenever they wandered off topic in the middle of class.

 

they sat in silence for a good part of ten minutes, just there to enjoy each other’s company. meanwhile, louis’ mind was still eating away at him.

 

“hey, harry?” louis looked at him. his profile was breathtaking; his bottom lip was slightly pouted, and his eyebrows were scrunched, probably in an effort to see past the streetlights and the assholes on the other side of the road who wouldn’t turn their high beams off.

 

“yes, love?” harry didn’t turn his head, he continued on the road, and rubbed the top of louis’ thumb with his own.

 

louis not-so-discreetly fixed his posture, and lifted his chin up, presumably in order to make himself look less defenseless and soft. “can i ask you something?”

 

this made harry turn his head, only for a few seconds, until he had to look back on the road. “yeah, go ahead. what’s wrong?”

 

“nothing, there’s uh… s’nothing wrong, i just…” louis stuttered, unknowingly gripping harry’s hand tighter. he paused for a second, trying to get the words to spill out of his mouth. “do you still want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

 

harry’s head immediately turned toward louis again, staying a bit longer this time, and waiting a few seconds before answering, only from awe. “of course i do. what makes you ask?”

 

“i don’t know, i just… with what i told you before, and everything that’s been happening, i just… i’m a handful.” he choked out nervously. “i’m a handful, and i’m sorry.”

 

“it’s okay, i’ve got two hands for a reason. i can handle it.” harry reassured, matching louis’ grip. “i will always love you, forever. don’t ever doubt it, okay?”

 

“forever? even when i’m old, and smelly, and senile?”

 

“yes, even when you’re old, and smelly, and senile (19) .” harry smiled, now realising that  _ this _ was louis.  _ this _ was the kind of humor he fell for six years ago, and  _ this _ was the personality that he looked forward to waking up to every morning.

 

“okay.” louis said, relieved. “i love you.”

 

“that’s good to hear,” harry said through his smile, lifting louis’ hand to his mouth, and keeping it there for a few seconds before kissing his thumb. “i love you too, ensoleillement.”

 

“what does that one mean?” louis leaned into the left side of his seat, listening intently for harry to respond.

 

“sunshine,” harry looked at him; seeing him all smiley and happy made harry’s heart melt. “you’re my sunshine.”

 

“and you’re too sappy, cut that shit out.” louis said, fighting through a morbidly embarrassing blush. they sat in a brief silence before they sparked a conversation about something completely indifferent that lasted them the good half hour it took them to get back home.

 

louis sat on the opposite side of the sofa from harry, with their feet nearly in each other’s faces.

 

“what time’s it?” louis asked, sitting awkwardly.

 

“almost eight.” harry lifted his arm to look at his watch, even though the clock was hanging on the wall, right in front of them. “do you want something to eat or anything?”

 

“no, but i  _ do _ want a beer.” louis smiled cheesily at harry, subliminally trying to get harry to get one for him.

 

“sure, mr. ‘we don’t drink’.” harry mocked, getting off of the sofa anyway. “here, i’ll do you one better.”

 

“huh?” louis turned around to watch harry go into the kitchen.

 

“stay there, love. it’ll only be a minute.”

 

louis turned and rested on the back of the couch, watching harry reach up in an overhead cupboard, but instead of watching what he was grabbing from the cupboard, his eyes trailed down to the small portion on skin that just pushed itself out of harry’s jeans. god, louis loved harry’s chubby hips.

 

“come back so i can touch you.” louis buried the lower half of his face in the sofa cushion, muffling his words. “love you.”

 

“i love you too.” harry selectively replied as louis heard who glasses clink together from the kitchen.

 

harry returned to his seat and handed louis a half-full glass of wine, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and letting louis slide under his arm. louis tucked his knees into his chest whilst he squeezed his right arm around harry’s back, between it and the couch, and tried to reach all the way around to touch his hip. it was a lost cause; louis was tiny, with no exception to the length of his arms. his left hand held the glass, the stem placed delicately between his middle and ring fingers.

 

“are you happy, lou?” harry asked, looking down at the top of louis’ head.

 

louis looked up at him, and fought the urge to kiss him. “of course i am. i’m happy.”

 

“good,” harry guided louis’ head to his shoulder with his left hand, messing up his hair. “happiness looks gorgeous on you.”

 

“i know it does.” louis smiled, taking a sip from his glass. his smile faltered as he heard eloise chirp as she jumped up and settled on Harry’s lap. “she  _ has _ to ruin everything, doesn’t she?”

 

“she’s not ruining anything, mon amour. she just wants to sit with her dads.” harry smiled. “besides, we love her, right lou?”

 

“oh, so you love her more than you love me now, do you?” louis asked. thank  _ god  _ harry picked up on the obvious sarcasm in his tone.

 

“yep,” harry tauntingly took a slow sip from his glass. “sorry, i was going to tell you sooner.”

 

“shame. i really thought we were going somewhere.” louis lifted his chin to kiss harry lightly on his lips.

 

“yeah,” harry responded by kissing him again. “shame.”

 

the three of them sat in a comforting silence, enjoying the simple and profound togetherness, sporadically taking sips out of their seemingly endless glasses, and getting up to refill them a few times. harry figured that louis needed this silence, so he didn’t bother asking about anything else. he also figured that if he asked anything, louis wasn’t going to answer anyway, so he remained quiet.

 

“your eyes are so lovely, d’you know that?” louis stared up at harry, getting the worst imaginable angle of him he could have possibly gotten.

 

“oh yeah? what makes them so lovely, louis?” harry looked down at him, managing another smile.

 

“well,” louis began lovingly, taking in every inch of harry’s face. “they’re like, olive. you know, the colour, not the food. they’re like an olive-y and sometimes they look like emeralds, and they’re so clear, i could look at them forever.”

 

“olive and emerald are two different shades, you know.” harry corrected him, setting his empty glass down on the coffee table, then settling back and continuing to play with louis’ hair with one hand, and pet eloise down her back with the other.

 

“i know, it just depends. they look different sometimes.”

 

“okay.” harry placed a light kiss on louis’ cheekbone. “thank you, my eyes really appreciated that.”

 

“good, i’m glad.” louis leaned his head against harry’s collarbone.

 

harry waited until eloise had gotten bored and jumped from harry’s lap to take louis’ empty glass and set it on the coffee table beside his. he wrapped both of his arms tight around louis’ neck, nearly suffocating him. “i love you so much, lou. i love you avec tout mon cœur (20) .”

 

“you’re drunk,” louis laughed, mostly toward the fact that harry had just proved his previous point. “you’ve had three glasses of wine, and you’re drunk.”

 

“m’not drunk, i promise. just love you.” he squeezed a little tighter, trying to be mindful of the fact that louis  _ hated _ being squeezed.

 

“yes, you are.” louis managed to worm himself out of harry’s arms, struggling to stand up. “go on up to bed.”

 

“it’s not  _ that _ late, baby.” harry grabbed onto louis’ hand lightly, accrediting louis to easily let go of of it. “m’not tired.”

 

“go.” louis repeated with a smile, setting the glasses down in the sink without bothering to wash them out. he padded towards the end of the row of drawers in their kitchen and opened it slowly, careful not to mess up the tidy order harry kept the bottles in. he searched for the big white one that didn’t have either an ‘h’ or an ‘l’ on the top of the lid. he poured two tablets into his hand, closing the lid and putting the bottle back into its spot, leaving the drawer open as a personal reminder.

 

he took a water bottle from the door of the refrigerator, and sat at the table, resting his chin on his hand. he took three long, deep, drawn out breaths as a test. the second one was just as shaky as the first, and the third was just a joke. he ignored it, shutting the drawer anyway and walking into their bedroom and set the pills and the water on harry’s bedside table.

 

“did you take your at-”

 

“yes.” louis lied, walking to the other side of the room.

 

harry was sprawled across his side of the bed, waiting to watch louis pace around the bedroom as he unbuttoned his shirt. he looked at louis as if he were a trophy, like he was something special, and louis could never understand it, why harry looked at him like that. louis will never understand it, but he’ll always want it. he’ll always want harry to look at him like that.

 

louis tucked his legs under the duvet, and curled into his usual spot around harry’s side, and beginning to shake his foot back and forth.

  
“are you sure you-”

 

“yeah, it’s fine, i’m fine.” he said quickly, sighing out another shaky breath.

 

harry knew louis was lying, but he thought that he probably had a reason for it, so he didn’t press the issue more than he already had. “okay.” he massaged his hand through louis’ hair in an attempt to calm him down.

 

“you know, someone once said that ‘you know you’re in love  when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams’.”

 

harry smiled, pressing the side of his mouth to louis’ forehead. “oh yeah? and who said that?”

 

“sir theodor geisel.” louis smiled, knowing harry would have something to say about that.

 

“ah, yes, the classic dr. seuss.”

 

louis stretched up, over harry’s chest, as high as he could reach on harry’s face and kissed the side of his mouth. “g’night, darling.”

 

“mmm,” harry continued to run his fingertips through louis’ coarse hair, taking in the nice moment between them. “goodnight.”

 

the night was cold, and louis ended up sleeping in a sweater. as they slept, eloise curled herself under louis arm as his back was turned from harry. she sat contently, putting aside the animosity between them for the night.

 

this was the first night in a long time that louis hadn't had a nightmare, and louis thought it a goddamn miracle.

 

harry’s alarm hit him like a truck. his head throbbed, and the barely visible sun was way too bright. turning off the obnoxious sound, he turned his head and looked to louis, admiring him. his head lied just below where his pillow sat, and he had somehow managed to kick off the duvet from his left leg. his hair was messily spread out across his forehead, and the back of it was sticking up, pressed against the sheets.

 

“lou? you awake yet?” harry groaned, getting no response. he carefully lifted louis’ hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing his fingers. when he dropped his hand, he chuckled as his arm fell back down like a rock.

 

he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, and nearly pushed his eyeballs into the back of his head, trying to relieve some of the pressure. 

 

louis wasn’t at all awake in the slightest, but he could still feel the weight shift off of the other side of the bed. he could hear harry walk around the house, doing whatever daily morning chores he did while louis pretended to sleep, strategically getting him out of doing whatever it was that harry did.

 

after half an hour of listening to harry’s light footsteps go back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen, he sat on the edge of louis’ side of the bed. “dawn goes down to day (21) , my love,” he said, running his hand along the side of louis’ thigh. “wake up.”

 

“why are you quoting frost this early in the morning?” louis rolled over to look at harry, noticing that is was just starting to get light outside.

 

harry was already dressed, a plaid button up tucked in a pair of fitted khakis, and an untied tie around his neck, under his collar.

 

“because you, dear, have to get ready for work. it’s almost six.”

 

“please,” louis pushed the duvet off of his body, making one of the strangest noises harry had ever heard. “don’t remind me. i just want to stay in bed all day, it’s nicer than those kids.”

 

“alas, nothing gold can stay (22) .” harry continued the poem, leaning down to kiss louis on the middle of his forehead. “get up or be late, your choice.”

 

“fine.” louis groaned, propping his body up with his arm. “what time did you get up?”

 

“five-thirty. same as always.” harry answered tiredly, starting to tie his tie. “i can’t wait for summer hols.”

 

louis stood up and leaned toward his dresser. “don’t say that, love. it’s only november.”

 

“i know,” harry started to make louis’ side of the bed, automatically knowing louis wouldn’t bother to. “thank you, by the way. for the nurofen.”

 

“you’re welcome, lightweight.” louis took a dark button up from his closet. “how d’you have a hangover? you had three glasses of merlot.”

 

“it’s not  _ that _ bad, i only took one tablet. get off your high horse.” harry walked towards the door, exiting the room. “and fix your hair, while you’re at it.”

 

louis ignored him playfully, struggling to take his sweater off. he realised how bad of an idea that was after a few minutes, when he followed harry out into the kitchen, with the cold tile underneath him. he reached out for harry, who turned around to hug him around his neck. “good morning, mon aimee (23) .”

 

“mm, it is now.” louis mumbled, his face pressed against harry’s neck. “s’cold.” 

 

harry roughed the back of louis’ hair, smiling. “you’re saying that, but you haven’t even got half of your clothes on. smart idea, that.”

 

“and lo, here i am.” he sighed delicately, kissing harry’s neck before parting from him and shivering back to their bedroom.

 

louis looked into his side of the closet, taking the first thing he looked at. navy chinos, the exceptionally mundane usual for him.

 

he laid out his shirt and accompanying pants on the foot of the bed, silently crossing the hall and locking the washroom door behind him.

 

as he started to run the shower, he snaked his joggers over his head and tossed it into the tall wicker laundry basket in the corner of the room. he stared at himself in the mirror and watched as the corners began to fog over from the steam of the shower.

 

meanwhile, in the kitchen, harry was sat at the small, round table, repeatedly scratching eloise’s head as she was sat atop the table.

 

“you know, if louis saw you on this table…” harry said to the cat, knowingly. “do you think he’s okay? do you think he’s acting weird too?” he continued, quietly thinking to himself as he spoke with no filter. he suddenly tore himself from his mindless gaze, and started to stare at eloise. “i’m talking to a fucking cat…”

 

just then, he heard the water shut off from down the hall, a screeching turn of the dial and a lack of sound that was awfully similar to the sound of a calming rainstorm.

 

as louis walked out of the bathroom, he had just a towel around his waist, and his hair was bone dry. harry thought it strange, him just getting out of the shower with dry hair. he thought of asking him about it for a whole four seconds before dropping it, knowing that louis wouldn’t be one hundred percent honest about it anyway.

 

louis watched himself get dressed as he thought about picking out one of harry’s ties just for the hell of it, but he hated ties. they made him feel like he was being suffocated, like someone was wrapping their hands right around his throat.

 

just thinking about suffocating made louis unbutton the top button of his shirt. He already felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he knew that his meds would help, but he also knew that he hated being ‘the guy on meds’.

 

“allons-y? (24) ” harry asked into the hall, grabbing both his and louis’ messenger bags, full of ungraded papers, by the door.

 

“yeah, i just have to grab something,” louis said as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, swiftly taking the tall, orange bottle with a big ‘L’ written in a black felt-tip marker on the lid from the counter. he grabbed the strap of his bag and swung it around his head, dropping the bottle into it. “ready.” 

 

  
  
: :  
  
  
  


louis’ head shot up when he heard his door open. “hey.” he grinned.

 

“hey.” harry called back from across the room. most, if not all of the students’ heads turned back, and all eyes were on harry.

 

“is it him?” a girl in the back asked enthusiastically. some kids turned to the person next to them as they started whispering back and forth.

 

“geez, you guys are  _ relentless _ .” louis shook his head as he stood up to meet harry in the back of the room. “what are you doing here?”

 

“planning block.” harry replied, squinting at louis’ marginally decipherable scribbles on the board. “and i have nothing to plan for. thought i’d come in and say hi.”

 

“right.” louis recounted, remembering that harry’s planning block was right after his. “that reminds me, can you pretty please go upstairs and check my mailbox for anything, there should be about twenty copies of an excerpt from  _ the little prince _ in there.”

 

“ah, so i’m your slave now?” he joked, walking towards the door again.

 

“if you’d like to put it that way.” louis replied as harry walked out.

 

the door latched as it swung shut, making a loud noise that startled half the class. “it’s him, isn’t it?” a different girl, genevieve, asked as louis continued to shake his head.

 

“nope,” he smiled, maybe looking a little too transparent. “what makes you think that it’s him?”

 

“s’not rocket science, mr. t.” 

 

“well, he’s not really my type,” louis said with crippling sarcasm, hoping it was believable enough for the group of teenagers. “but i’m flattered.”

 

most of the class went back to doing their work, not particularly interested in the inner workings of louis’ life, but a few looked at him, partially infuriated. 

 

“why won’t you just tell us, mister?” a boy in the front asked, looking up from his folder.

 

“because i like watching you guys  _ squirm _ .” he said intriguingly, raising his eyebrows.

 

“mr. tomlinson, can i see you out in the hall for a minute?” harry peeked his head through the door that was held ajar by his foot.

 

louis looked at him, puzzled. “uh, yeah, sure. excuse me a second, guys.” louis followed him out into the hallway. “what’s going on?”

 

harry made louis look up at him, and he smiled. “i miss you.”

 

louis smiled back at harry, thinking of how ridiculous harry was. “it’s only eleven-thirty in the morning, love.”

 

“i know.” harry said, hugging him a little too tight. “here are your papers, love. enjoy  _ le petit prince _ . i’ll see you later, i love you.” he handed louis the stack of identical papers.

 

“thanks, love you too.” he said, walking back into the room, turning back to see every single pair of eyes on him. he sat in silence for a few seconds until the door shut. “took you guys long enough, yeah?”

 

“you’re evil, mr. tomlinson.”

 

“it’s the only thing i’m good at,” he looked through the stack, making sure that they were the right papers. “get back to work.”

 

the rest of the day was uneventful; classes went on, kids talked, and harry sent him an annoyingly obvious text saying ‘just wanted to say u look cute today, love u’.

 

they didn’t see each other again until school had already been out for an hour.

 

harry opened louis’ door, and louis whispered ‘oh, for fuck’s sake’ before he could see who it was.

 

he made it about four steps into the room before louis said, “stop, don’t move,” he waved his hand around in a wavy motion, circling around harry. “the way the soft evening light catches your eyes,” harry grinned, under the impression that louis was actually giving him sincere flattery. “and the gentle caress of dusk on your hair as you turn around and leave my classroom without giving me that folder.” louis grew more sarcastic as he went on, making harry pretend to lose his smile.

 

“o’brien asked me to give this to you, since you weren’t in here during lunch,” harry threw the chunky folder on louis’ desk. “where’d you go?”

 

“went for a walk.” louis said simply, picking the folder up, looking at the first page in it. “why does o’brien want me to have this?”

 

“how come? i came by to have lunch with you and you weren’t here,” harry pulled up a random chair and sat next to him. “and your room number’s on the front of it, in case i’m mistaken. which seat is his? i’ll just leave it on his desk.”

 

“i don’t have him until last block tomorrow, love. could you please put it on the back table for me?” louis pointed to the table, looking for an excuse to give him that wouldn’t worry him too much. “just a little stressed. needed the fresh air.” wrong answer.

 

“why’re you stressed, love? are you feeling okay?” he turned to look at louis, quickly putting the folder down and sitting back down next to him. “do you think you’re-”

 

“it’s nothing. just needed a break, seriously. i’m fine.” louis smiled, setting his pen down on his desk and looking at harry sincerely, even though he was far from sincere.

 

“pseudobulbar affect,” harry started, sitting forward in the chair. “feeling one emotion while expressing another. what’s  _ really _ the matter?” harry looked at him, trying to pry it out of him. “and don’t lie to me. did you forget your-”

 

“no,” louis sat in silence for a second, trying to decide whether or not he was going to lie again. “i, um… i did something, this morning. i don't think you saw, but i um… i put on some makeup this morning, and,” louis quickened his words. “before you say anything, i don’t need you to patronise me, and i don’t need you to tell me how proud you are of me or whatever other condescending thing you were going to say, i just want you to know that that’s why i was stressed. i was afraid.”

 

“okay.” harry said slowly, not knowing what to say next.

 

this was the first time harry had seen louis with makeup on. albeit it wasn’t much, it was something, and now that louis had pointed it out, he could tell. he could tell, and it was incredible. as much as louis didn’t want him to, harry couldn’t help but feel a warm, butterfly feeling in his stomach, he was so proud of him.

 

“how come you don’t tell me anything anymore?” harry asked, looking at louis’ skin, trying to see what else he had done.

 

“what do you mean?” 

 

“i mean like,” harry only knew what it was called because he grew up with an older sister; mascara. “you could have told me. you could have said that you did that this morning, and you could have told me when you were getting stressed out today. i just feel like i have to guess what’s wrong all the time, you know what i mean?”

 

louis knew what he meant. “i’m sorry.” he repeatedly opened and closed the middle drawer of his desk. “i know. i’m sorry.”

 

“don’t be sorry love. just talk to me more, s’all. you’ve never had a problem with talking before.” harry poked fun at louis’ talkative demeanor.

 

louis thought for a second, knowing that if he just said ‘okay’, the conversation wouldn’t be over. “i don’t want to be weak, harry. i’m not weak.”

 

“talking about your feelings doesn’t make you weak, baby. it just lets me know how you’re feeling, that’s all. i like knowing how you’re feeling.”

 

louis looked at his feet, only trying to escape the feeling of harry’s eyes on him. “okay.”

 

“okay,” harry repeated him, standing up and putting the chair back behind it’s desk. “can we go home now?”

 

“in a minute, i need to finish putting these last few grades in.” louis rolled his chair back under his desk and continued to type a few above average grades into the tiny boxes that gridded his screen.

 

louis was a good teacher. although his kids’ grades mostly banked on the fact that they were naturally gifted with an abundance of intelligence, but he was good at what he did. he and harry both were, respectively.

 

“okay,” louis shut his computer down, and pushed himself away from his desk. “let’s get out of here.”

 

  
  
: :

  
  


  
“i hate my job. i want to be a drug addict, i’m going to do drugs for the rest of my life, harry. m’gonna quit, and i’m gonna snort heroin forever.” louis paced around the living room while harry quietly watched him from the sofa.

 

“you don’t hate your job,” harry assured him, smiling at himself. “and you don’t snort heroin; you inject heroin into your veins. i think.”

 

“you would know.” he snarled, sitting back down beside harry and lying across his legs.

 

harry slid his hand under louis’ untucked shirt and ran it across his stomach. “why are you always so dramatic?”

 

“harry.” louis said through gritted teeth.

 

“i know. i’m sorry,” harry moves his papers aside and played with louis’ hair with his other hand. “what’s the matter?”

 

“i’m not going to finish grading these by the deadline. it’s impossible, there are too many. they’re too long.”

 

“no, it’s not impossible. look, you’ve only got like, ten or so more.” harry estimated by looking at the pile sitting on the coffee table.

 

“yeah,” louis looked at him, annoyed. “and the deadline is tomorrow before last bell.”

 

“you haven’t taken any ativan today, have you?” harry asked frankly. he hated it when louis went off his meds, only because he hates seeing louis so strained.

 

“no.” louis mumbled, covering his face in his shaking hands.

 

“and you didn’t take any last night, did you?”

 

louis didn’t bother to answer him as he swiveled his body to the other side of the sofa, taking out the bottle and swallowing one of the small pills dry. “sorry.”

 

“it’s okay, you just have to take them when you need them. take care of yourself.” harry leaned and kissed louis’ temple. “you have your planning tomorrow, you’ll be okay.”

 

“i’m tired of these lectures from you.” louis leaned back and consciously made an effort to stop shaking his foot.

 

“would you rather i put a post-it on the washroom mirror instead of listening to my beautiful voice three times a day?” 

 

“yes,  _ please _ , put me out of my misery.” he exaggerated as he picked up the packet on the top of the neverending pile.

 

“i love you too,” harry teased, standing up from the slight dip he had made in the sofa cushion. “prick.”

 

harry held such high longanimity that it was almost sickening. not in a cosseting kind of way, but in such a way that he was willing to remind louis every morning, afternoon, and night to take his medication, no matter how many times he had to repeat himself.

 

it was just the way he was raised; have patience, show compassion, and go out of your way to help others.

 

he looked down at louis’ foot before walking away. his ankle was propped up on the opposite knee, and his foot was shaking in a rhythmic jerking motion. he always did that, but harry was always too afraid to ask why. he seemed to think that he already knew why.

 

louis’ fingernails were bitten down to the point where he had to move from the nail to the cuticle, having bitten down at least a centimeter on almost every finger.

 

harry circled the sofa, stopping behind louis and kissing him on the top of the head. “seven o’clock, and i will shove it down your throat if i have to.”

  
“here’s looking at you, kid (25) .” louis teased, continuing to read the packet in front of him.

 

 

\---------------------------

1\. 'ribena': an english origin brand of black currant-based uncarbonated and carbonated fruit concentrate drinks, mostly enjoyed by undisciplined toddlers and creepy, fourty-something year old man-children.

2\. 'c'était formidable':  “it was wonderful”, for those of you who took secondary level spanish instead of french. there lies your first mistake.

3\. ' kiss me. kiss me as if it were the last time':  an awful clich é from the movie ‘casablanca’, but if you were to ask louis, he’d tell you he’s never seen it.

4\. 'à-corps-perdu': synonymous with "head over heels".

5\. 'mon chéri': french for the endearment term ‘honey’, literally translating to ‘my good man’.

6\. 'sotto voce': basically, fancy talk for a low mumble or whisper.

7\. 'château cheval blanc de bordeaux':  translating to ‘white horse castle of bordeaux’, a wine producer from the bordeaux wine region of france.

8. excerpt from ‘the love song of j. alfred prufrock’ by t.s. elliot.

9\. 'chouchou': french term of endearment, literally ‘pet’.

10\. 'je t’aime beaucoup, mon beau étoile': “i love you very much, my beautiful star.”

11\. 'bonne après-midi, mon cher': “good afternoon, my dear.”

12. harry never liked to admit it, but he was a complete candle whore.

13\. 'ça va':  “how are you?”, literally translated as “it’s okay?”

14\. 'merci: "thank you"

15\. 'de rien': "you're welcome"

16\. 'mon amour': “my love.”

17\. 'je suis toujours ici pour toi, mon cher': "i am always here for you, my love"

18. it's kind of a funny story, but it’s a story for another time.

19\. 'old, and smelly, and senile': grey's anatomy. don't ask.

20\. 'i love you avec tout mon cœur': "i love you with all of my heart"

21\. 'dawn goes down to day': excerpt from ‘nothing gold can stay’ by robert frost.

22\. 'nothing gold can stay': continued excerpt from the aforementioned poem.

23\. 'mon aimee': "my beloved"

24\. 'allons-y?': "let’s go?”

25\. 'here’s looking at you, kid': another quote from the movie casablanca, synonymous with the idiom “i’ll have a toast to that”. for someone who claims they’ve never seen the it, he sure knows his movie quotes.


End file.
